


Soul Suckin' Jerk

by lonniek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Bottom Scott McCall, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Top Derek Hale, nonbinary Scott McCall, soft dom derek hale, soft sub scott mccall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5898010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonniek/pseuds/lonniek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek hates his job. Derek loves Scott McCall. Derek kind of loves that he has decided to quit his job (so does Scott).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul Suckin' Jerk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queerly_yours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_yours/gifts).



> Happy birthday to one of the best people I know <3

“I hate my job,” Derek sighs into the receiver of his office phone. He swivels his desk chair outward so that he can glare across the expanse of the floor he works on, sending daggers toward his boss’ office. He knows he’s not cut out for these seventy hour work weeks, for slogging through backlogs of paperwork and poring over hours of cases, only to be shrugged off when Peter wins the big cases on all of Derek’s hard work. Part of him wants to kill his uncle, strangle him in cold blood and then be his own defense attorney so everyone sees the kind of person that Peter was.

“I know, babe,” Scott responds with a small hum, almost like a coo, like that’s supposed to make Derek feel better, and Derek looks down from his fantasy world in which he commits first degree murder to find that the nice pen Scott bought him for his birthday is leaking all over his white dress shirt sleeve. If it were blood, Derek would be okay with it, revel in the dry cleaning bill. But it’s not. What it is, is the last straw.

“I’m going to quit.” There’s a hard resolve in his voice that Derek’s never heard before, at least not while he’s talking about leaving the firm. But now, as he watches Peter pop open a bottle of champagne in his office over their latest victory while Derek is supposed to be bearing the grunt work of pre-trial motions for another four open cases, Derek realizes that there’s nothing left to tie him to the job. His mother and father are gone, and he only promised to help  _ them _ . Derek doesn’t want his name attached to the way they win cases now.

“You say that all the time,” Scott tells him.

“I know. But I mean it. I’m quitting. I quit.” The breezy finality to the statement shocks the both of them into silence. “You should come over and help me pack up my stuff.”

“You’re kidding, Derek. This is just Peter we’re talking about. Sure, he’s obnoxious, but you always work things out in the end.” In that moment, Derek falls a little more in love with his partner. Scott’s been encouraging him with little pep talks at work for the last six years, and there’s something about them that makes him able to put up with just one more day. Now that he’s decided that quitting is real, Derek can hear the earnestness in Scott’s voice, knows that’s what keeps him so in love.

“You’re off work already, right? I really mean it. I’m not working for Peter anymore. He’s cruel and he’s a cheat and I can’t stand him. I’m really done.”

“Wow,” Scott says on the other line. Then, “Of course I’ll come help you, Der. Wow. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Derek can’t blame Scott for the dumbfounded lilt in their voice. He almost can’t believe that he means it either. “See you in twenty.” When he hangs up, Derek leans back in his desk chair and takes in the room around him again. The white walls don’t make him feel so caged in anymore. He turns, eyes catching on the drapes for the sprawling floor to ceiling window. The fantasy about pushing Peter from it doesn’t  come. Derek chuckles and pulls open his desk drawer, grabbing a fresh pen and a legal pad.

In the twenty minutes that he waits for Scott, Derek writes the most brutally honest letter he’s ever written. It’s scathing, but Derek feels like Peter deserves worse. With each paragraph he finishes, Derek feels lighter and lighter. His shoulders loosen, drop back down to where they should be instead of clenched up around his ears. His breathing deepens and evens out, and Derek almost feels like singing by the time he’s signing his name at the bottom of the eleventh page. He doesn’t, though. He clamps down on that urge and stuffs the pages into an envelope. He gets the call that Scott’s there as he’s licking it closed. He tosses the envelope onto his desk and crosses to open the door.

Scott tilts into Derek’s space the same way he always does, tumbling into his arms headfirst in a rush of fluttering fabric and eager arms and sighing as they press against each other again, like they’ve been away for too long (even if they saw each other an hour ago). When their arms are wrapped around Derek firmly, Scott drags their chin up Derek’s chest, where Derek is inevitably looking down at them, and puckers up for a kiss. Derek smiles and kisses Scott, soft pink lipstick and all, until Derek starts to feel a frantic pulling in his gut.

This is real. He’s quitting his job. The resignation letter is on the desk. A knot turns in his stomach. Law, this practice, this life, it’s all he’s ever known, and he’s…

“I’m so scared, baby,” Derek whispers against Scott’s mouth, pushing the door closed with his foot. Without pulling apart, Scott pushes Derek toward his desk chair, and they collapse into it with a  _ whump _ and a sigh. Scott arranges themself in Derek’s lap, their legs dangling off the side of the chair so that they can kiss the fear off of Derek’s face.

“It’s okay. We’ll always be okay,” Scott promises, stroking a hand down Derek’s arm. “Right?” Scott asks into Derek’s ear, and it makes him shiver. He shifts under Scott’s weight, adjusting to wrap his arms around them and pull them in closer.

“You’re always right,” Derek returns, nuzzling his nose down Scott’s neck. Scott whines and pushes at Derek’s shoulders.

“You know what that does to me,” Scott warns, their voice dropping into the low register they reserve for the bedroom. Derek loves that after all these years, he can still make Scott fall apart with just a touch. His eyes flicker back to the drapes and his window. An idea forms in his head, and he smiles, lips spreading out and upward against Scott’s neck. Scott takes a deep breath in, closes their eyes, and shudders.

“Yeah?” Derek teases, kissing the space on Scott’s neck under the slope of their jaw. Scott makes a half-aborted protesting sound, then melts further into Derek when he traces the spot with his tongue.

“Derek,” Scott whispers, urgently. “Derek we’re in your  _ office _ . You’re at  _ work _ .” Derek just chuckles and shrugs.

“Last time I checked, I didn’t work here.”

“So, what? You’re just going to fuck me in your office as some sort of fuck you to Peter? That seems a little bit-- _ fuck _ ,” Scott whines, cut off when Derek drops his hand under Scott’s skirt and squeezes their thigh.

“I’ll thank you to keep my uncle’s name out of your mouth while I’m trying to undo you,” Derek says mildly, tucking his arms under Scott’s legs to lift them off of his lap and deposit them onto the desk. Scott kicks over a sheaf of files, a cup of pens, and Derek’s name plate as they’re put down, and Derek chuckles while Scott grips the fabric of his shirt and pulls him in so that they’re kissing again. This time, there’s no question about what they plan to do. Derek knows that Scott’s got a little bit of an exhibitionist streak, loves the thrill of maybe getting caught. He kisses Scott until they pull away, thunking their head backward onto the desk.

“Ow,” they wince, and Derek’s hand is quick to be there to cradle the back of Scott’s head while his other hand resumes its path up Scott’s thigh. Scott giggles at the tender touch and how it almost tickles and how it should feel wrong when they’re on Derek’s  _ desk _ , but they can’t make that seem to matter when Derek finds the waistband of Scott’s underwear and starts to pull them down with his fingernails dragging down Scott’s hips, achingly slowly. Scott whines, low and frustrated, and cants their hips so that Derek can drag their underwear off. They land, in all of their blue lace glory, on Derek’s lamp. Neither of them notice, because Scott’s scrabbling to yank their shirt over their head, whacking Derek on the nose in the process.

“Sorry,” Scott whispers, kissing Derek’s nose. They only get a second to be apologetic, though, because then Derek’s mouth is latched onto Scott’s left nipple, and Scott’s breathless all over again. “God, I love it when you put your mouth on me,” Scott says, pushing their chest forward. Derek knows better, already has a hand around Scott’s waist so they can’t take more than Derek’s giving. It drives Scott wild, that touch, the grounding touch that means that both Derek’s in charge and that he’s there. After years without someone to ground them in anything, that touch, that someone solid, is everything. Scott groans.

“Where else do you want me to put my mouth?” Derek asks, and Scott huffs.

“Everywhere, Derek, always,” they say, trying to get Derek’s mouth back on them. Derek quirks a brow and pulls his hands away. Scott growls in frustration. “Are you going to  _ fuck me _ on this desk or aren’t you?” they demand, sitting up. They’re hard under their skirt, and with no underwear on, Scott’s cock is only hidden by the way that the fabric of the skirt is clinging to the precome slick head of their dick.

“No,” Derek answers simply, rolling his shoulders back to pull off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. Scott clears their throat and squeezes the base of their dick once, to remind themself to be patient. It doesn’t work.

“What?”

“I said no.”

“No as in…”

“No, I’m not going to fuck you on the desk,” Derek answers, rid of his shirt and right up in Scott’s ear. Oh.  _ Oh _ .

“Yeah?” Scott’s voice is playful now, and they roll onto their hands and knees, watching as Derek strips out of his shirt and pulls at his belt buckle. “So where  _ are _ you going to fuck me, then?” Scott asks, resting back on their haunches. They know better than to touch themself, know that all it’ll take is one poorly timed stroke for them to get off, and Derek kind of has this glint in his eye that makes Scott want this to definitely not be over yet.

“You’re so needy today,” Derek says, humming and crowding into Scott’s space on the desk. His hands curl around Scott’s waist, slide down to cup their ass. “Let’s get this skirt off and take care of you, yeah?”

“ _ Please. _ ” Derek unzips the zipper and does away with the hook-and-eye in a practiced motion, and it falls open around Scott’s waist. Scott sighs and starts to lean forward to pull it off, but Derek stills them with a hand over theirs.

“Let me.” That, Scott can do. Derek takes his time with his hands around Scott’s waist, the fabric of the skirt slipping slowly down their thighs until it’s finally off and Scott is finally naked and Derek is looking at them like it’s taking every ounce of control he has not to take back what he said and fuck Scott right there on the desk. But no. Derek has plans. He drops the skirt onto the floor and steps around the desk toward the back of the office, toward the window.

The drapes are thick, mauve-colored damask that keep the sun from being oppressive late in the day, which is the only reason they’re drawn now. At twenty minutes to five, his office will be bathed in golden sunlight. It’s the kind of light that reflects perfectly off of Scott’s skin. Derek, clad in his boxer briefs, strides to the curtain cord and turns back to Scott, who’s watching him with an intense determination on their face, as if trying to determine exactly what’s next. The excitement in Derek’s stomach won’t let him hide the surprise any longer.

“Come here," Derek instructs gently, and tugs on the cord. The curtains pull open with little flourish, spreading quickly and easily and leaving the room flooded in the beginning twinkles of dusk. Scott hops off of the desk but falters when the curtains open, self-conscious bathed in the sunlight. Realistically they know that nobody’s looking thirty seven stories up, but it doesn’t stop them from feeling vulnerable. Derek’s face is patient, but expectant, and it’s that look that makes Scott feel the exciting tingle that comes with doing something naughty. Their confidence renewed, Scott crosses boldly into the streaming afternoon sun. Derek’s hand is waiting for them when they get to the window, but Scott doesn’t get as far as reaching out to take it. Instead, Derek’s hand reaches out to grasp the back of Scott’s neck and tug them in for a kiss. His other hand grips the back of Scott’s right thigh, pulling them together while Derek walks them purposefully up against the window.

Scott melts as they’re manhandled against the glass, gasping as their back touches the cool surface, then reveling in it when they feel the renewed thrum of heat spark up in their stomach. Scott groans, tries to wrap their leg around Derek’s to get some friction to rub off on. Derek lets them for a minute, his own hips responding to each thrust in kind, until it would be too easy for him to forget his plans and let Scott make him come in his underwear like a teenager (or that time in the car last Tuesday when Scott had a bad day at work).

“Fuck,” Derek spits as he rips himself away from Scott in a move that takes most of his will power. He pulls away only far enough to suck in air that smells like more than just the scent of Scott’s arousal. Scott’s panting underneath him, drawing in little breathy whimpers. “God, Scott, the things you make me want to  _ do _ to you,” he groans, taking hold of Scott’s cock between them and stroking it slowly, like an afterthought. Scott’s thighs quiver, and Derek spins them around to face the window. Below, hundreds and hundreds of feet below, people are blissfully unaware of Scott’s throbbing hard-on and the way that their precome is streaking the glass.

“You see them down there, Scott?” Derek asks, stroking Scott off a little faster while he crowds into their space again. He boxes them in with his thighs, presses his left forearm against the window by Scott’s head so that he’s never outside of Scott’s line of vision. Scott nods and drops their forehead down onto the glass.

“Yeah, yeah I see them,” Scott answers, rewarded for verbalizing with the pad of Derek’s thumb across the head of their cock. Scott tries to jerk away from the touch, sensitive and on edge, but Derek’s everywhere, and Scott can’t escape the thrill of this game.

“They could see you, if they paid attention. But they’re not. Because they don’t know how special you are. They don’t see how hot you are like this, don’t know that you’re all mine.” Derek pauses for a second to suck a mark into Scott’s neck, comes away licking the trail of spit from his lips while he surveys his work. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?” Derek asks.

“Of course,” Scott gasps, hands curled into fists on the window. “Always, I’ve always been all yours. Since the beginning.” The words pour out of Scott like they can’t figure out how to turn it off, and Derek knows it’s time now.

“Good, baby, you’re so good,” Derek praises in hushed tones against Scott’s back, nosing his way down their spine. He pauses at the curve of Scott’s lower back to pepper kisses at the crest of their ass, feeling rather than watching Scott spread their legs a little further, arch their back. Derek noses lower, drops to his knees and continues to press tiny kisses across their ass. “Yeah? You want me to eat you out?”

“Fuck, yeah, babe. Especially...your beard, I love it when you eat me out when you haven’t shaved.  _ Fuck _ , I love it when you give me beard burn Derek,  _ please _ .”

There’s no pretense after that. Derek growls, pushes his shoulders between Scott’s legs, spreads their ass with his palms and thumbs, and licks the flat of his tongue over Scott’s hole. Derek licks until Scott’s pushing back against his face and begging for more, all of their body weight leaning up against the window for support. Derek imagines what Scott’s face looks like pressed on the glass, whether they’re biting their lip to stifle the seventh “fuck”, or if their mouth is open while they pant, leaving puffs of hot air on the window in time to Derek’s tongue.

Scott gets desperate when Derek presses the tip of his thumb into Scott’s ass along with his tongue. It’s not a lot of pressure, but Scott’s easily overwhelmed by the sensation, and they buck against Derek’s mouth.

“Derek, Derek, oh  _ fuck _ ,” Scott grunts, hips stuttering in and out of sync. “Touch me, touch me, make me come.” They’re not requests, they’re demands punctuated by needy grunts and impatient growls for every second that Derek doesn’t have his hand around Scott’s cock. Derek shifts a hand up around Scott’s hip and starts jerking them off in quick, efficient motions while they grind down on his face.

Derek hears the sound of come splattering against the window before Scott shudders above him. Their thighs relax, and Derek has about five seconds to get to his feet and wrap his arm around Scott’s waist before their knees buckle and their legs give out.

“Every time,” Derek murmurs underneath Scott’s ear, sliding his thigh between Scott’s legs so that Scott can feel the wet spot on Derek’s underwear and how his cock is straining the material.

“Are you going to fuck me here for everyone to see, too?” Scott throws over his shoulder, a tired challenge with no bite. Derek laughs and squeezes Scott tighter around the middle, curling over and around them.

“Well, I see that I’ve come to celebrate just a little late.” The sarcasm in Peter’s voice shatters the tension of promise in the air, and Scott is immediately aware of how much like sex the office smells. Immediately, they try to shrink so that Peter won’t see them naked, grimacing.

“Get out,” Derek growls, not looking backward. The door doesn’t open or close, though, so Scott assumes that Peter has opted not to listen to his nephew. Not like it would be the first time.

“But Nephew, I don’t want to miss out on this party favor of yours. It’s Scott, isn’t it? Hello, Scott.” There’s a chill in Peter’s voice that makes Scott feel like a child. “I see. Not sharing, are we?” Scott’s glad to be pressed against Derek so they can feel the warmth of his body heat.

“Right. Well, clearly I can see where I’m not wanted. I just wanted to ask if you were planning to find time in your  _ busy schedule  _ to--”

“I quit.” Derek says it mostly just to shut Peter up, but when it works, when he hears Peter’s jaw snap shut, Derek feels the finality again. A chapter closing, a bitter chapter.

“Surely you can’t be--”

“As sure as people in hell want ice water,” Derek snaps back. “Now. Get.  _ Out _ .” This time, there’s a rush of wind and the soft click of the door shutting. Derek deflates in a rush of air, and Scott devolves into a fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Scott whispers, a little hysterical and a little incredulous. “I can’t believe that  _ Peter _ just--”

“I  _ told _ you to keep his name out of your mouth,” Derek groans, batting playfully at Scott’s shoulder before crossing the office to his desk and pile of clothes. He yanks on his pants and is in the process of bucking his slacks when Scott pads over, collecting clothes from the floor and slipping back into them.

“I thought we were done undoing me,” Scott says, feigning innocence. Derek snorts and winks at Scott, picking up their underwear and stuffing it in his pants pocket while Scott watches, mouth agape.

“Never.” Scott leans into Derek’s space and steals a kiss. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Derek murmurs on Scott’s lips.

“Are you going to clean up the mess we made on the window?” Scott asks. Derek looks over Scott’s shoulder to where there’s streaked come drying in various stages of dripping down the glass, framed by the dark pink of the final vestiges of sunset. He tilts his head, thinks about Peter coming into the office in a few hours and finding it just the way they left it, and he can’t deny the joy the thought brings him. So Derek grabs Scott’s hand and leads them out the door.

“No. No, I’m not.”


End file.
